She thinks she's all grown up;
She walks in thinking that she's a full grown
Woman,
Turning her ankle to show off that tiny heel.

She overdrew her lips
Higher than the empire state.
Her tiny eyes dart down the aisles.
Do you really think you can sniff out
A hot stud at the local WalMart?

Her soul tricked itself,
Roaring like it's a lion.
She'd do anything to make herself forget
That she's only a tiny girl.

And there she stands,
Scanning a tiny bag of chips,
Then stealing a beer at the self-checkout.
What a grown up thing to do.

I took a drive on a manic day,
And turned the corner way too fast.
My actions caught up to me at last,
And I crashed my car on life choice lane.

So I stood there as the engine smoked,
And pondered on nonsensical things:
Such as how the caged bird still sings
Despite a shortage of dopamine.

Hallowed be thy name o' Lorde,
Somehow still playing through my radio.
Sound waves bounce against the pavement and echo,
Making the loneliness even louder.

I'm left to kick rocks on life choice lane.
There's a dent in the stop sign pole
For everyone who has paid the toll
Of dealing with my sorry ***.

But now they're gone,
And now I'm gone.